


Softly to the Sea

by DriftingFarandWide



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I NEEDED THIS, Keith can finally be happy, M/M, Soul-Healing, Why are fic authors so evil, no death this time, nope - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DriftingFarandWide/pseuds/DriftingFarandWide
Summary: This is an epilogue to the fic "Softly from the Sky," approved by the author.That fic is the second one that has emotionally broken me, and I needed something to ease the pain.I hope this will do that for some other people as well.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [altos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altos/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Softly from the Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313424) by [altos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altos/pseuds/altos). 



         The rain pattered soft against Keith’s face. It rattled against the surface of the ocean, a soothing, cool spray.

         Keith inhaled, breathing in the scent of sea breeze as the waves rolled against the shore all around him.

         He was older now. Many years had passed since he had completed his degree in Marine Biology and begun the work that Lance had wanted to do, since he had taken the recording offer and made his voice heard.

         The world was very different to the one that Lance had risen into all those long years ago.

         Keith had what Lance had not: time. And he had used it well.

         His voice passed unheard for a long while, until one day it sparked an interest, and several different environmental agencies began to approach him and ask for his help.

         His music and his credibility as a marine biologist have him great clout with both the government and the populace, and things began to change.

         Marine reserves were created. Companies that produced above a certain level of pollution were bought out and ended.

         People became aware and began to watch their waste, began to be less careless with what they used.

         And after many years of publicity, of fiery passion and fervor, the Earth began to heal.

         The rain lost its acidity. The ice began to return. The mountain of trash sitting at the crossroads of the ocean’s currents was recollected and reused, providing years worth of products. Coral reefs began to mend.

         Forests were replanted and cities were festooned with living art, plants that twined and decorated every wall and concrete edifice.

         The Ocean began to clear.

         Every study, every review, every search showed that the heartbeat of the Ocean was stronger than it had been in hundreds of years.

         And Keith wept for joy.

         Lance would not die. The Ocean would not pass because of human greed.  
         Human compassion and love for beauty had won the day.

         And so, with his work nearly complete, Keith was ready to rest.

         Every chance he had gotten, he had returned to the sea, had talked to it, had told of his victories, had raged and railed at its silence, hated it even as he loved it above all else.

         But he always came back to its quiet waters.

         Lance never answered. The seas never shifted to tell him anything, just continued to lap and curl at his toes.

         Today would be his last visit to the sea. He grew tired, frail. He walked with a cane. The walk on the beach, that same beach where Lance had revealed himself so long ago had exhausted him and he sat down heavily on a log, tossed up by the sea’s immense power.

         Keith sighed. “This is where it all started, huh?” He said to the empty shore. “You, me, and a half a pet store.”  
He gave a hollow, mirthless laugh. “I thought it might be the start of something. But… I was wrong.”  
         Tears began to well up in his eyes as he clasped his arms around his knees. “I miss you, Lance. All these years, and nothing. Not a hint, not a whisper. I know that you’re stronger now. You’re healing. I can see it.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t know if you ever planned to come back. But if you did, I think you’re going to be too late.”

         “I’m tired, Lance. You meant the world to me and I spent the rest of my life after you left making sure you mean that much to everyone, but I can't do it much longer.”  
         Keith stood carefully, steadying himself on his cane.

         “Time doesn’t mean much to you. But I’ve run out of it, Lance.”  
         He began to walk slowly forward, towards the waves that beat a steady pulse on the sand. He stepped into the water, wincing at the cold before he pressed on, wading out until it rose up to his knees.

Keith watched as the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, bathing the surf in a rich golden hue. He choked back tears. Just like his eyes that night.

         He stood up straight and stabbed his cane into the sand.  
“I came to say goodbye, Lance. But I brought something for you before I leave.”  
         He rummaged in his coat pocket for the small bag sloshing around there.  
A small smile touched his lips. “He missed you, just like I did. But at least he can have you back.”  
         Keith pulled the bag out of his pocket, holding it up towards the sun to watch the small fish that swam inside.

         He fumbled with the clip, the cold numbing his fingers as he struggled to open the bag and free the fish inside. When he finally opened it, he held the bag up to his face one more time.

         “Tell him I miss him, ok?” He whispered to the fish in a broken voice.

         Then he carefully tipped the bag into the water just a few inches away from the surface. “Go home.”

         The fish floundered in the water for a moment, before it righted itself. Then it did a curious thing.  
It circled Keith’s legs twice, before speeding off towards open waters.

         Keith sighed and stood straight. Collecting his cane, he turned and began to make his way back to the shore.

         He felt so tired, and he imagined the waves pulling at his ankles, trying to hold him there.  
He chuckled. _Wishful thinking._

         Upon reaching the shore, he started on towards the road at the far side of the beach, but before he got too very far, something made him pause.

         There was no sound. The ocean was silent behind him. No waves, no birds. Just… Silence.

         With trembling hands he turned to see… A completely calm sea. The surface was glassy smooth.

         As Keith stared in amazement, his phone buzzed, deep in his pocket, just as the waves began to roll again, their gentle soothing sound washing over the sands again.

         He had gotten a text, from a number he never expected to see again.

_Lance: A little fishy said you missed me._

         Keith pressed his hand to his face, tears streaming from his eyes.

         His fingers weak, he typed back:

_Why, Lance? Why now?_

         He felt weak. This couldn’t be happening. It must be a fever dream. That's it, he must be already dying in the hospital. It couldn’t be. It couldn't be.

         And then his phone buzzed again.

_Look behind you._

         So he did. And there, standing behind him, clad in a Garrison University hoodie, was the boy who was the ocean, looking stronger than ever.

         Keith fell back in the sand in shock, and Lance strode forward to kneel in front of him, offering him a hand. Keith hesitantly reached up, pausing for a moment before clasping the hand.

         As soon as he did, a surge of strength ran through him. The years melted away and he felt as strong as he had all that time ago, young again.

         Lance smiled at him softly, cupping his cheek with one hand. “I always planned to come back, Keith. But I had to wait.”

         Keith closed his tearful eyes and pressed his cheek into Lance’s hand. “Why?” He choked out.

         “Because I’m finally strong enough to take you with me.” Lance grinned widely. “How would you like to see what fish politics are really like?”

         Keith gave a bark of laughter, still pressed into Lance’s hand.  
He wrapped his arms around the boy who had the ocean in his eyes and squeezed.  
         “I would like that very much.”

         Lance smiled even wider. “Then what are we waiting for, huh? Let's get going.”

         They turned together, hands clasped between them as they walked into the surf. The water reached their knees, their waists, and then the water touched nothing, as they vanished into the endless deep, alive, whole, and together in a place where time has no meaning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope this helped. 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought, it means the world to me. 
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
